Dance For Me (Strip in the City, Book 2)

05 • Hot Reveal

With a satisfied smirk, I stood out of my seat and started swinging my Blanche's Brawds t-shirt over my head like a helicopter, whipping the women in a frenzy of cheers. They'd said Romeo needed a younger woman to dance with, and well, here I was. Primed and ready.

I figured my little show would stroke his ego, but instead of grinning and showing off his moves, Romeo pulled down on his baseball hat and marched off stage, leaving the other guys just standing there–literally with their dicks in their hands.

A chorus of disappointed groans came from Blanche's Brawds.

"What was that all about?" Maren asked.

I shrugged, feeling strangely disappointed. Was it me? Was I too much for this lowkey club? I shook off the thought immediately. No way. This was a strip club. Performers loved when the audience showed support. A silent crowd was a bored crowd.

"Maybe this is part of the act?" Maren offered, looking to West for guidance.

West shook his head. "Nah, that seems like backstage drama to me. Some mains can be primadonnas. Maybe the club was too empty for his liking or something, so he dipped."

I turned my attention back to the show that was still going on without Romeo, and it was all over the place. The dancers were out of step. One dude actually stepped on another one's foot, nearly starting a fist fight, and very little of this seemed scripted.

It was obvious these weren't trained dancers. Each one was really good looking, and clearly trying, but the overall effect wasn't like The Oiled Olive. They were just getting up there and winging it, which was sad, considering how much potential they all had.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to find Rhonda standing beside me, one hand cupped to her mouth like she wanted to tell me a secret. I leaned in, and she shouted over the music. "You can go back and do your dance now. He's waiting."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes! I'm sure! Go get your beautiful buns in there!"

I cast a quick look at Maren, who shooed me forward. "Well, go on! See if Romeo is our gem. Maybe he was having a bad night on stage. Ask him some questions to see if he'd be interested in representation. Oh, and if he does anything you don't like, text me or scream. West will defend your honor." She turned to her boyfriend. "Won't you?

"Absolutely," West confirmed. "His muscles don't intimidate me."

What if he didn't like me? Or what if he'd left the stage because of me?

No, that was crazy. Why wouldn't anyone like me? Especially a stripper who didn't even know me.

"Have fun!" Maren practically squealed over the music, giving me two thumbs up.

Rhonda pointed to a black door toward the back, and with confidence I didn't quite feel, I made my way to the private dance room.

I opened the door and peeked my head inside. It was dark, save for the glow of pink rope lights lining the ceiling. Music was playing, some house mix I'd heard at a club before. The ambiance was lacking, but it certainly was private.

I spotted Romeo leaning against the wall, still wearing a baseball hat that shadowed his face. But his face wasn't what had my attention. It was the red rose tattoos climbing up his arms and the way his pants sat low on his hips, drawing my gaze to his defined abs.

This man looked nothing like a company dancer. Those men were long and lean and tattoo free. Romeo was something else entirely.

And as much as book-reading, glasses-wearing, charity-working Hot Stranger was my type...so was this man.